


The Ocean

by LemonNinjaa



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2142546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonNinjaa/pseuds/LemonNinjaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chester reflects on how far he's come, and he's reminded again just how well Mike knows him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ocean

The cold waves lapped against my shins as I stared out at the horizon. It was 10 at night; far too late for anyone to be hanging out at the beach. All the same, though, I had gone far off to one side, near where the sand started turning back into that weird sand-rock mixture before dry land. On a whim, I’d left my shoes on the shore and stepped into the water. My feet had sunk into the wet sand and I felt so grounded, so solid, but I knew inside I was anything but. My hands were shoved into my pockets and there was no one around.

“Let the ocean take me,” I whispered to myself, my words carried to sea by the breeze.

I sighed. It was so hard to try and make something of yourself by basically destroying your life and building it back up in a completely different place with completely different people. Everyone tells you to follow your dreams, but they never mention how sometimes you have to crush your innocence and security in life to pave the road towards a dream you might not even be able to reach. I dug my toes deeper into the sand, idly noting the feel of the sand giving way so easily.

What the hell was I doing here, standing at a beach at nighttime? I knew I should just go back to Mike’s place but it just felt like everything has settled into a routine, and routines are what I’m trying to avoid. This is why I’m doing this in the first place; I don’t want to be stuck in a routine life of waking up, going to work, coming back home at 6pm every night and having dinner, then going to bed to do it all again the next day. I want raw emotion, adrenaline running through my veins. I want to make music.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the scent of the salty air and everything around me. The whisper of the waves was calming my nerves, interrupted only by the occasional car engine. _Maybe I’ll get a tattoo of the ocean._ The thought randomly popped into my head as I shifted my feet from side to side, feeling the sand move under my feet again.

I opened my eyes when I heard a car engine closer than all the previous ones had been. I didn’t bother looking behind me, though, because what the hell would anyone want with the strange guy standing in the ocean in the middle of the damn night?

“Chester?”

I whipped around then, not expecting Mike to have met me here.

“Mike? What are you doing here?” I asked, feeling a little foolish standing mid-shin deep in the ocean.

“I came to get you, duh.”

“How’d you know where I was, though?”

In the faint light of the streetlight on the road, I could see Mike’s teeth showing in a wide grin.

“Just had a hunch…”

“Dude, no, really, how the hell did you know I was here?!”

“’Let the ocean take me’, was it? I heard you mumbling it under your breath a few times the other day, and I figured maybe that’s where your artistic inspiration’s been coming from lately or whatever. I don’t know man, it was really just a hunch anyway.” He scratched the back of his head as if he was embarrassed to have to reveal that he’d been putting so much thought into something I had been mumbling to myself.

I smiled at his reaction. He kind of struck me as a little lost puppy dog sometimes; even though he worked hard as hell and was ridiculously creative and innovative, sometimes his facial expression looked exactly like he was a small canine who was looking for his owner.

“Aw, did little Mikey miss Chester?” I teased lightly.

I like to think he blushed as he gave me a mockingly-affronted gaze.

“Hell no! I figured you were just working on your dramatic ocean scene music video takes or something and you needed a little reminder that we have to get the songs done first before the music videos.”

I admired the way he spoke so confidently, as if he was more than positive that we’d actually get our shit together. I wish I had the same assurance, but all the same I’d still throw myself into it, since that’s what I’m here for.

“I don’t need to work on that; I’m perfect already, obviously. I was just reconnecting with the earth and whatnot, y’know.” I stepped out of the water and towards Mike. “So did you come up with anything new or did you just feel like taking in my good looks?”

“Of course I came up with something new, we’re not all trying to spiritually re-discover ourselves in the middle of the night. Come on, I’ll show you the new riff I came up with and maybe we can get something going out of it.”

He turned, looking over his shoulder as I picked up my shoes and trotted after him towards his car.

“Don’t worry about the sand and shit; don’t even bother with your shoes. I’ve probably got an old t-shirt or something in the back that you can put your feet on and I’ll get you a towel when we get back.”

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem.”

We both knew that I was thanking him for more than just the t-shirt and towel, but we said nothing out loud. I’d never been so close to someone before in my life, but I can’t say it’s something to complain about. Mike and I just have this sort of connection for the short time we’ve known each other.

“I’m so excited to hear what you’ve got, man,” I said, feeling the passion for music well up inside me again.

“It’s pretty cool, the rough name I’ve got for it so far is Esaul.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Dude, shut up, it’s creative liberty, alright? We can name it whatever the fuck you want if we actually make a song out of it, but right now you can fuck yourself!” Mike whacked me lightly on the arm.

I snorted.

“This better be a fucking insane riff to make up for a weird name, dude.”

“Fuck you, Chester.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Mike is such a dork, but at least he’s my dork of a best friend.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was basically inspired by Don't Lean On Me - The Amity Affliction. :)


End file.
